


the yellow haired princess

by ElasticElla



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fairy Tale Elements, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24399031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: When Myrcella turns twelve years old, she is sent away to a tower in the desert.
Relationships: Myrcella Baratheon/Sansa Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22
Collections: Writing Rainbow Make Up Round





	the yellow haired princess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ba_lailah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ba_lailah/gifts).



When Myrcella turns twelve years old, she is sent away to a tower in the desert. Her mother claims it is for her protection, but she’s always been good at slipping into the shadows, hears the courtly whispers of the new deal they’ve struck with Dorne. Of the poor little kitten left to slaughter upon her twenty-first name day. 

Unless someone intervenes. After all, it's only a dragon.

In the beginning, Myrcella dreamt of a prince rescuing her. Of a tall man with golden locks on a gallant steed, wind blowing through his hair and carrying the scent of home. The seasons past, and Myrcella amended her dream, to a covered knight, could be anyone beneath the armor, coming to save her. 

If only she’d been a girl of renowned beauty, surely then she’d have her pick of the best. There were so many grand suitors in the songs, she only needed one. 

The more time past, the less it mattered who it was or where they’d take her. Dreamt of dirty pirates stealing her away, could not truthfully call it a nightmare. Prayed to every god she’d ever heard of, begging for their champion to come save her. 

The dragon roars outside her window as the cock once crowed, dread rising with every morning it remains; too familiar now to incite the anxiety it once did. There are only three seasons left, three seasons and all of those horrible whispers will come true. 

Three seasons, and there is a miracle in her doorway. A miracle with red hair and a courtly smile. Professional, political – Myrcella won’t be swayed by her pretty face. Nor her impeccable clothes, a pristine gray dress without a speck of blood or dirt on it. 

“You don’t look like you’ve battled a most ferocious beast,” she says in lieu of a greeting. 

The corner of her mouth curves into a smile, “My sister is the dragon slayer. Shall we?” 

Myrcella finds herself caring very little for tradition as she takes the offered hand. “Where will you take me?” 

“To a new kingdom. You will be safe.”

And as much as she would like to believe the beautiful woman with soft hands, she knows better than to believe in safety. 

“I see. At least the view will be an improvement.” 

The woman blushes, and oh, Myrcella can most certainly work with that. 

(Might even enjoy it.)


End file.
